


Returnings

by little0bird



Series: Spring Returning [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Family Reunions, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, So far into AU it's not even funny, Still rebuilding King's Landing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little0bird/pseuds/little0bird





	Returnings

The screams and laughter of rang through the garden. Arya strode toward the noise as quietly as one of the cats she’d caught here a lifetime ago. Five children played under the shadows of young trees. She paused in the shadows to study them. Two had blonde hair and lanky builds that promised prodigious height as adults. Another two bore dark hair, and the last, a small girl, had thick auburn hair. Arya felt a smile spread over her face. The laughter died down, and the children stared at the stranger in their midst. ‘Who are you?’ the blonde boy demanded. The boy’s features reminded her of the Lannisters. Arya judged him to be roughly eight or nine years old. He swiftly nocked an arrow and drew the bowstring back. It was aimed at her heart. 

Arya spread out both hands, arms held away from her body, leaving Needle and the Valeryan steel dagger in their scabbards. ‘I’m Arya Stark. Who are you?’

‘Nikolas Tarth,’ the boy replied warily. His eyes never moved from Arya. ‘Cwennie, go fetch Mamma and Papa. Ned, get your father.’ Nikolas’ voice was quiet, but the command was unmistakable. The blonde girl and one of the dark-haired boys pelted off toward the castle. Nikolas kept the arrow aimed at her. It was only a training arrow, the end rounded and blunt, but if he let it fly, it would hurt like hell and leave a terrible bruise, but no lasting damage. It could, however, create enough of a distraction so he could grab the little ones and run. Arya smiled. There was something familiar about the intensity in the boy’s eyes that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

Footsteps pounded on the path behind Nikolas. Arya’s gaze flickered upward. Brienne of Tarth came charging into the garden, a determined gleam in her eye and sword in hand. Arya would have recognized the woman anywhere. The two blonde children were clearly hers. The boy had her mouth and the girl inherited her mother’s eyes. She was followed by Jon and another man that Arya couldn’t quite place. They also carried unsheathed, edged swords. Brienne skidded to a stop just behind Nikolas. She laid a hand on the boy’s skinny shoulder. ‘Nikolas, lower your bow,’ she ordered. Nikolas obeyed, but kept the arrow nocked. Brienne stared at Arya, brows drawing together as her eyes lit on Needle. She slid her sword into its scabbard. ‘Arya?’

‘Yes.’

Jon sheathed his sword. ‘Arya…’ He enfolded her in a tight embrace, nose buried in her hair. ‘We’ve missed you…’ He released her and turned, scooping up the smaller of the dark-haired boys, who poked a finger into his mouth and gaped at the strange woman standing in front of them. ‘This is Benjen, my younger boy.’ Jon beckoned to the other one, with Jon’s dark eyes and a tumble of curls falling into his face. Jon tenderly ran a hand over the mop of curls. ‘And this is my oldest, Eddard, but we call him Ned.’

‘You named him for Father,’ Arya breathed. 

‘I did. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Of course not.’ Arya glanced around the garden. ‘Do they have a mother, or have you hidden her away in some dungeon?’

Jon blushed. ‘O’ course they do.’ 

A woman roughly Jon’s age appeared next to him, face wreathed in a smile. ‘Talla,’ she said. ‘It’s so lovely to finally meet you. Jon speaks of you often.’

Arya examined the woman. She was quite pretty, with an open, cheerful face. ‘How’d you manage to persuade her to marry you?’ she chortled to Jon, punching him lightly on the arm.

‘It was quite the other way around,’ Talla said idly, taking Benjen from Jon’s arms. ‘Poor thing kept trying to explain why he was unsuitable to marry anyone, right up to the moment my brother escorted me into the Winterfell godswood.’

‘Papa,’ Nikolas whispered loudly. ‘That can’t be Arya Stark. Joanna’s nurse says that Arya Stark shapeshifted into a wolf that roams the Riverlands.’ The boy’s father quietly shushed him. 

Arya studied the greying, bearded man Nikolas called “Papa.” Her eyes narrowed. Years fell away and Arya moved closer, the man watching her warily. ‘Jaime Lannister was said to have died. A victim of the Dragon Queen’s madness,’ she said so quietly, only Jaime and Nikolas heard her. 

Jaime’s head cocked to one side. ‘Arya Stark was said to have sailed off on the Sunset Sea and fell off the edge of the world.’ A corner of his mouth turned up, and he shrugged. ‘But here we are.’

A slower, measured tread sounded on the path. Arya pushed past Jaime and walked straight into Sansa’s arms. They stood wrapped around one another until Sansa pulled back a little and swiped at the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘Which of these brats are yours?’ Arya asked, as if she had missed the Tully auburn hair on the small girl.

Sansa held out a hand. ‘Joanna.’ The girl ran toward her and smiled up at Arya. ‘She’s my oldest. She’s just turned six.’ Sansa turned and lifted a little boy into her arms. ‘Young Jaime. Named for his uncle. He’ll be two soon.’

‘Why did you name your son after a Lannister?’ Arya asked, wrinkling her nose.

‘ _I_ did.’ Tyrion came stumping up to join the group. 

‘Father haunting you at all?’ Arya asked dryly.

‘Not yet,’ Tyrion said in a droll voice. ‘I’m expecting it any day now.’ 


End file.
